I suppose. And I do have many questions, but perhaps we start with a simple one. Why did you accuse these three senior lords of plotting treason?”
And now Edyon saw what was happening: he was on trial.
“Why? Because it’s true. They believe my father is taking the country in the wrong direction by aligning too closely to Pitoria. They believe I’m ill-equipped to rule after him, and they believe themselves to be much better equipped. Regan’s feelings were hurt because my father had asked him to perjure himself. And, rather than saying no, he blames my father. I’m sure there are many more reasons too, but greed and evil natures seem to be at the base of it all.”
“That explains your view of their position but not your accusation,” the chancellor said. “Why did you accuse them?”
“I heard them plotting. Regan, Hunt, and Birtwistle were discussing it after a banquet one evening, as casually as if they’d been planning a boar hunt.”
“This is very hard to imagine, Your Highness.” The chancellor frowned. “How did you overhear this? At the dinner table?”
“No. In Regan’s room, on the second night of our tour.”
“And you were invited there?” the chancellor asked, trying to work it out.
“No. I . . . I happened to be in the room.”
“I don’t understand,” Thelonius interrupted. “How were you in Lord Regan’s room? You’d been drinking heavily, I seem to remember. Did you confuse the rooms? Explain the circumstances clearly.”
Edyon wanted to lie, but it seemed pointless. He wasn’t a prince; it was all a fraud anyway: he didn’t belong here at all. He pulled the silver mirror from his jacket and slammed it on the table. “I was in Regan’s room stealing that. I was about to leave when Regan, Hunt, and Birtwistle returned. I hid and I overheard the conversation.”
Thelonius frowned and picked up the silver mirror to inspect it. “But why? I really don’t understand.”
The chancellor looked equally confused.
“I’m a thief. I can’t help it,” Edyon said. “I was a little drunk as well; I won’t deny that either. But neither will I change my accusation. I heard what I heard. They were plotting murder.”
Thelonius put the silver mirror back on the table. “I don’t know what to say, Edyon. Are you so lacking in morals? Do you care nothing for honor? This is not the behavior of any son of mine.”
Tears filled Edyon’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, if you think I’m not worthy of being your son. I may be a thief, but I do have some honor. I’m being honest with you about what happened. I won’t lie about that. And I won’t apologize to three of the worst sort of men, men who truly have no honor.”
“Then I’m not sure what we can do for you,” the chancellor said.
MARCH
SOMEWHERE IN SOUTHERN BRIGANT
MARCH WAS pouring wine for a prince again and find-ing it less enjoyable than ever.
Prince Harold was fourteen, and he had the wine more as an accessory to his appearance than for the taste or to quench his thirst. Today Harold’s goblet was made entirely of gold, though some days he preferred the glass with the gold stem. Most things of Harold’s had gold on them, even though he was in an army camp. “Most things” included March, who now wore a white shirt with a sleeveless jerkin that had a gold badge over the heart to show he was in the Gold Brigade. The day before, Harold had complained that March’s eyes were silver and didn’t match the gold pitcher March was hold-ing, and for a moment it really did feel like Harold would skewer out March’s eyes for clashing with the tableware. Harold considered March to be just another of his posses-sions, and not much more valuable than his gold plates and goblets.
Sam was in the Gold Brigade too, but he was not treated like a servant. As Sam had no aptitude for or experience with waiting on a prince and, as he’d won the trial, Harold took pleasure in giving him arduous physical tasks to test his strength and speed. Sam was also being trained in the proper use of weapons and was already much more proficient with the sword. He was quickly turning into an able soldier and was once even allowed to spar against Harold. “Just remember to lose, Sam,” March had muttered under his breath as he’d watched the bout.
The Gold Brigade was slowly increasing in numbers as Harold selected the best from the